


The consequences of trying to make meth in your kitchen

by naturegirlrocks



Series: Sherlock Drabbles [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 100 Drabble Challenge, Gen, Pre-Series, misadventures of the chemical kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturegirlrocks/pseuds/naturegirlrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place the day before Sherlock's and John's first meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The consequences of trying to make meth in your kitchen

"There you go," said the fire chief to Greg. "That's the origin of fire. I don't need to tell you what it is."

"No," said Greg in bitter tone. "Thanks, Robert, I'll take it from here. I owe you one."

"Adding it to the list, mate," said Robert with an equally tempered grin.

Greg stepped out of Sherlock's small charcoaled flat, and took the lift down to the ground floor. The ambulance was still parked outside on the street. A sleek black BMW had joined behind it.

Sherlock was on his back on the gurney, breathing into a oxygen mask. Mycroft Holmes, the mysterious and intractable government employee, was actually sitting on the low bench beside him holding the mask firmly over his younger brother's nose and mouth. The two female paramedics were standing a good distance away.

"Care to explain yourself?" asked Greg in his best 'stern-father'-voice.

Mycroft lifted the mask a little bit to let Sherlock speak.

"Experiment," rasped the already deep voice.

"Why?!" Greg sighed, rubbing the bridge if his nose.

Sherlock pointed directly at him. Mycroft raised an accusatory eyebrow.

"Me?" Greg felt slightly outraged. "I'm am aware that the case I asked you to look in to was drug related, but that does not give you permission to set your kitchen on fire with a miniature meth-lab!"

"Really, Sherlock," huffed Mycroft.

"Uu don le ee..." tired Sherlock through the mask that had been pressed upon him yet again.

"I don't let you?" Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Of course I don't let you! If you feel a need to do chemical experiments on certain...substances that are off limits to you, you could have called me, and I would have set up a real lab with someone to assist you."

"I-" Sherlock irritatingly pushed away the mask. "I don't need a babysitter. I'm thirty-five!"

"Going on twelve," muttered Greg.

Sherlock glared at him.

"If we are all quite finished here," he said as he tried not to cough. "I need to go pack my things, since this place has become inhabitable."

"Where are you going?" asked Greg.

"Mrs. Hudson said she would let me rent the flat on Baker Street," Sherlock got up from the gurney, and pushed passed his brother out of the ambulance.

"Then you must get a flatmate," said Mycroft, following him.

"I will do no such thing! You would only pay them to spy on me."

"Sherlock," Greg grabbed hold of the thin man as he tried to pass. "Listen to your brother. Get a flatmate at the new place, or I will arrest you for what the firemen found up there. That includes the severed fingers in the fridge!"

"And I would let him," said Mycroft. "My patience is wearing dangerously thin right now."

Sherlock looked the both of them over. His lower lip was slightly trembling, and his breathing seemed obscured from more than just smoke-inhalation.

"Fine," he then shrugged. "I'll get a flatmate."

Then he left to return inside the still smoking building towards the stairs. Several firemen called out as he past them. Greg sighed and exchanged an exasperated look with Mycroft.

"Who would ever want him for a flatmate?"

-the beginning-

**Author's Note:**

> Words for this were 'Beginning' and 'Fingers'


End file.
